


The Seven Circles of Psych 101

by echospool



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Aziraphale and Crowley Share a Brain Cell (Good Omens), College, College AU, Eventual Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens), Gabriel/Michael (Good Omens) - Freeform, Human AU, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), M/M, Minor Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Nonbinary Beelzebub (Good Omens), Nonbinary Michael (Good Omens), Other, POV Gabriel (Good Omens), Past Beelzebub/Michael (Good Omens), They/Them Pronouns for Michael (Good Omens), They/Them pronouns for Sandalphon, Ze/Zir Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), grad school
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:47:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24147640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echospool/pseuds/echospool
Summary: College AU to fulfill Ineffable Tarot prompt. While it was inspired by the tarot prompt it will probably not exactly follow that structure. Sorry ellbie!(Also thank you to ellbie for the title - I am terrible at naming things)Gabriel and Michael are grad students in Lucifer's psych department. They have to balance their TA responsibilities with planning out their thesis. However, Beelzebub warns Gabriel that Michael might be a less than stellar partner, both academically and romantically.Also Gabriel has to teach Crowley and Aziraphale and they share one brain cell.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Michael (Good Omens), Gabriel/Michael (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [ellbie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellbie/pseuds/ellbie) in the [Ineffable_Tarot](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Ineffable_Tarot) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> The Magician: Juggler, Trickster, Divine connection and inspiration, Skill, Talent, Subtlety, Self-control, Chatterbox, Enterprise, or just straight up Aziraphale because he loves performing his magic tricks <3
> 
> 9 of Coins: Accomplishment, Honors, Sense of self worth
> 
> 7 of Swords: Skillfulness and determination that needs to be used for the right purposes (focused inward or blocked), Considering escape from an imprisoning situation (repressing this consideration)
> 
> Deck used: Tattoo Tarot

Gabriel stood at the front of the class and plastered on his "I will fucking eat you" smile as the last of the stragglers wandered in. If everything went according to plan, this was the last time he'd need to TA Psych 101. He would push these little shitstains through with most of them earning a passing grade if it killed him and everyone else to do it. Professor Luke would be selecting his research assistants at the end of the semester, and Gabriel and Michael were a shoo-in.

Gabriel's friends back home told him to be careful, and that it seemed like an awful lot of "together time" to work on his thesis proposal and get an assistantship with his partner, but that's just because they hadn't seen the two of them work together. Gabriel and Michael were a well oiled machine; they'd been together since undergrad, and while many couples of their longevity were still at the "finishing each other's sentences" phase, Gabriel and Michael could communicate almost telepathically through a series of meaningful eyebrow raises and withering glances. It's why a joint thesis would be perfect. They were always on the same page. When they put their minds together on something, they were an unstoppable force. From ballroom dance to beer pong, in-class debates to trivia night at the bar, they swept the floor with the competition. Unfortunately, that's why they'd stopped being invited to events by the other grad students in the department. But that was okay. As long as Gabriel had Michael, why would he even need anyone else?

Gabriel checked his watch. Two minutes past the start of class. That was officially enough time to get started.

"Hello fresh meat," he said, raising his voice only a little, and pushing himself up off the desk he'd been sitting on. "This is Lucifer's Psychology 101 Recitation Group B. If you are in the wrong class, kindly get the fuck out. To the rest of you, my name is Gabriel and I will be your guiding light through this semester."

A hand shot up from the front row, and Gabriel did a slight double take. He wasn't even halfway through his opening spiel. He'd never had an undergrad interrupt him before and he found himself off balance. He waved in the direction of the kid, a pudgy little thing in a white cardigan with curly white hair that, if it weren't for the baby fat still in his cheeks, would have aged him up a great deal. Gabriel figured it must be a new fashion thing that he didn't get.

"You said that this was Lucifer's class? I signed up for a class with Professor Luke Morgen."

Gabriel plastered his "fuck off" smile back on before answering, "As you would have learned if you'd let me finish, Professor Luke is often referred to as Lucifer on campus because this semester he will put you through Hell. This is not a blow off class. He expects you to put your best foot forward, as do I. Next time, please wait until I'm done to ask questions, Mr....." here Gabriel paused and stared at the boy who'd spoken up, waiting for him to introduce himself.

"Aziraphale," the boy murmured. Gabriel had to ask him to repeat himself, and he wanted to ask the boy to elaborate on his name, but that was a breach of decorum he wouldn't indulge in in front of the class. Asking about weird names came too close to discrimination for the university's taste, and was frowned upon.

"Well, Mr. Aziraphale. I applaud you for being so invested. Throughout your time in this course, if you learn to balance that with some good judgement, you may well be a fit for this department." Gabriel smirked slightly at the boy's stunned look. He may have been a hard ass, but Gabriel liked to think he wasn't a monster all of the time. In fact, his end of semester evaluations depended on it. Best to make a strong impression on the first day.

Fifteen minutes into class, when they were in the middle of group discussion on the assigned reading, a knock-kneed redhead wandered into the room, obviously hungover between his heavy sunglasses and his unsteady gait. "Psych 101 Group B, yeah?" he slurred, looking over the room for an empty seat. He melted into the desk next to Aziraphale. After a couple of seconds of silence in the class the boy looked around, confused. "Please, don't stop on my account. Carry on."

Gabriel did his best to light the newcomer on fire with his mind. When that didn't work he cleared his throat and said, "Would you mind introducing yourself, seeing as how you've induced a standstill?"

"Name's Crowley. Or Antony J. Just not Antony," he said, and smiled brightly at Aziraphale, who blushed and looked away, embarrassed.

"Well, Mr. Crowley. It's day one of the recitation group and you're already behind. I was going to do this at the end of class, but each of you will be paired up with an accountability partner throughout the semester. Since you're clearly going to need help keeping up, your partner will be our group's resident go-getter, Mr. Aziraphale. The rest of you, take five minutes to pair off and exchange numbers. Throughout the semester you will check in with one another, proof read one another's papers, and generally be responsible for one another as you progress. At the end of the semester you will receive a joint participation grade for this recitation session, so it  
behooves you to share the work equally and not dump it all on the harder-working partner in your group. Do you understand, Mr. Crowley?"

By this point Aziraphale was nearly curled up in a ball, trying to make himself as small and unobtrusive as possible, while Crowley seemed to expand, spreading his long limbs to take up nearly three people's worth of airspace. "Righto," Crowley said, writing something down on a torn off scrap of paper and handing it to Aziraphale.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and waited for the rest of the class to pair off. He could already tell it was going to be a long semester.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel has two unscheduled conversations. He does not appreciate surprises.

The end of the day came and went without Gabriel noticing. He'd been holed up in Professor Luke's office, making sure he understood each minute change in the curriculum from last semester. Gabriel wasn't kidding when he told the new kids that Lucifer was demanding of his students. He put the TAs through Hell as much as the students. Lucifer iterated on his teaching materials, and always made sure that his TAs stayed up to date with current literature on the off chance an undergrad had a question about psychology in current events. He expected his TAs to be able to answer anything the students might throw. "I don't know" was never an acceptable response.

Gabriel dragged his hand down his face and contemplated curling up under Lucifer's desk and spending the night there, but Michael would probably skin and eat him if he didn't show up soon. He glanced at his watch. Shit. He was already twenty minutes late, and he'd walked to campus today. It would be another half hour before he got home.

He made careful note of where he was in the textbook and made sure to put everything in the office back exactly the way Lucifer liked it. The desk was still covered in with his own papers and Gabriel considered taking a risk and just shoving them into a drawer where they weren't likely to be found. But Michael was expecting to go over some of it with him when he got home, and he didn't want to disappoint his partner.

As he tapped the last stack of papers neatly together to put in his briefcase, he noticed the pudgy white haired boy from his class pacing right outside the door. Gabriel straightened up, and patted some of the wrinkles out of his sweater before clearing his throat to get the kid's attention.

"Oh," the boy started, not realizing that Gabriel had seen him. "I wasn't sure if you'd be in the office this late."

Gabriel smiled tightly. "Hazards of the job. Is there something you needed?"

"Oh, well, I was just stopping by to thank you for the lesson today, and to give you this," he took a hand out from behind his back and offered Gabriel a shiny red apple. "Good luck charm for the new semester and all that."

Gabriel knew a bribe when he saw one, but the bribes he got were usually a little bit better thought out. "What exactly is this about?" he asked.

The boy turned almost as red as the apple he was holding. "It's Crowley, you see," he said. It took Gabriel a moment to remember who the kid was talking about. Oh, right. The hungover accountability partner. "I texted him about tonight's reading and I only got back a series of sarcastic emoji. You can't honestly expect me to share a grade with this person."

"I _can_ honestly expect it and I do. You'll have to work with plenty of people you don't like in your life. Consider this part of the lesson." Gabriel turned his back to the boy and resumed gathering his things.

"Really, be serious," the boy sighed, and slammed the apple down on the desk. "I work hard to be a good student, but I'm not a magician. I can't force someone so obviously irresponsible to change."

"Maybe not, Mr. Aziraphale," Gabriel said, finally remembering the boy's name. "But you'll put your best foot forward and we'll see what happens from there. Who knows? Maybe you'll do Mr. Crowley some good." Gabriel picked the now bruised apple off the desk and took a large bite out before throwing the rest in the trash. "Now, if you'll excuse me, my partner is waiting for me at home."

Aziraphale slumped his shoulders and hunched over a bit, deflating right in front of Gabriel's eyes. But he nodded and turned to leave without another word. Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief and locked the office before heading out into the night.

A couple minutes after leaving campus, Gabriel couldn't shake the feeling he was being followed. He kept glancing over his shoulder, but there was no one there when he looked. He picked up his pace without quite breaking into a run - he was dressed entirely inappropriately for that - and made it to his block in record time. He smiled, and thought that he should maybe enter a speed walking competition in the off season.

Then he noticed that someone was standing in front of his and Michael's apartment building. The person was staring straight at him, and it seemed like they were waiting for him. Gabriel tensed up. Two unscheduled meetings in one day would have been stressful enough, but this person apparently knew where he and Michael lived. He debated crossing the street, or walking back around the block an additional time to see if the person would still be there when he got back, but decided against it. It wasn't hard to figure out where he lived; most of the grad students lived close to campus and knew someone who knew someone who had been to a party at someone else's place. Word got around. He steeled himself and walked briskly up to the interloper.

"Waiting for someone?" Gabriel asked, all clipped consonants and false curiosity. The person started to open their mouth but Gabriel cut them off. "Wait, no. I don't care. Get out of my way."

"I didn't realize I was in your way," the person said, and Gabriel felt silly. The person really wasn't blocking his entrance to the building. They were just standing there, so Gabriel pushed past and made to open the door. "But I need a word," the person said to Gabriel's back.

Gabriel knew he should ignore the weirdo with the messy hair and, wait, was that dirt on their face? But something about them made him pause. He turned back around and set the briefcase down on the ground. "Sixty seconds," he said, putting his hands in his pockets and doing his best to look bored.

"You don't know me. My name is Beelzebub," said the person, and something prickled at the back of Gabriel's mind. He'd heard the name before. "You should stop trying for a joint thesis with Michael. It'll end bad." Gabriel cocked his head, waiting for Beelzebub to continue, but that seemed to be all they wanted to say. But they didn't move to leave either.

"Is that it?" Gabriel asked, leaning down to pick up his briefcase.

"I've known them for a long time. They've always been.....ambitious."

Then something clicked in Gabriel's head. "Beelzebub. You're Beezy! Michael's crazy ex from high school. You followed them here through undergrad and now grad school. Michael told me you were pathetic, but this? This is something else."

"Did Michael also tell you they email me every few months about how they were wrong, and wish they could fix what they did to me?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes and turned back to the door. "This conversation is over."

"You'll remember this conversation later," ze said, and when Gabriel turned around ze was already walking away, apparently done with whatever message ze wanted to impart. Gabriel shook his head and went inside, hoping Michael hadn't waited for him to eat dinner. A hungry Michael was an unpleasant Michael.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pronoun switch for Beelzebub in this chapter is intentional. When Gabriel doesn't know who Beezy is, he defaults to "them," but once he realizes he switches to "ze/zir," which is what Beezy uses in this fic :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel gets home late. Michael seems less than thrilled that Gabriel delayed their plans.

When Gabriel shuffled through the door he was bone tired. He'd gotten into the habit of running after he was done on campus for the day but when he looked at his dresser he couldn't muster the energy to change into his tracksuit, let alone convince himself to get back outside and working up a sweat. He also didn't want to chance another surprise meeting with someone tonight. He flopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling for a minute before Michael poked their head in through the doorway.

"Rough evening?" they asked, not really waiting for a response. "You could have texted to say you'd be late. The takeout's ice cold."

"Is it just me or are the incoming freshman stupider every year?" Gabriel replied, still staring blankly at the ceiling. He was starving, and wished he'd actually eaten the apple that Aziraphale had given him, even if it was a shitty bribe.

"They're no dumber than we were," Michael said, sounding entirely too reasonable and even keeled for Gabriel's taste. "We just had good mentorship. And now it's our turn to return the favor."

"Would it kill you to humor my more maudlin moods?" Gabriel sighed and got up from the bed with what felt like entirely too much effort.

"Probably," said Michael, and they wandered back out into the living room, apparently done with the conversation. Gabriel sighed again. Things were perfect with Michael, he kept telling himself. They were a perfect set. But after Beezy's cryptic warning Gabriel wished that Michael would ask about his day, humor him just for a little bit. He wanted a way to bring up how strange his night had been. Instead, Michael was unfailingly reasonable, cool, and collected. Gabriel told himself that's what he loved about them. But as he dragged himself to the cramped galley kitchen and bent over to check the scant contents of their fridge, he had a hard time convincing himself tonight that it was true.

"How was your first day back?" Gabriel called out into the living room, hoping that Michael would take the hint that Gabriel wanted an actual conversation.

"It was as expected. Some naturally good students that will suck up energy and time searching for validation. Some slackers who will barely pass no matter what I do, and the rest fall somewhere in between," Michael said back, barely raising their voice so that Gabriel had to take his head out of the refrigerator to hear them above the hum.

"Sounds....average," Gabriel waited a beat for Michael to ask how his day was in kind, but they didn't say anything else. Gabriel returned to perusing the fridge, deflated. He grabbed an old takeout box that looked like it still had some meat mixed in with the veggies and nearly slammed into Michael when he turned around to go to the microwave.

Michael held a small plate with two red velvet cupcakes, each with a lit sparkler candle. They smiled affectionately at Gabriel and said, "Happy new semester. Make a wish." Gabriel normally hated cake, but he had a soft spot for red velvet. The two of them had had a red velvet cupcake together on the first of the semester every year since they first got together. He felt his irritation melt away and he beamed back at Michael. 

Gabriel took in a deep breath, wished that they would finish their thesis proposal soon, and blew out the candle on one of the cupcakes. Michael did the same. They picked up the cupcakes and tapped them together, each saying "Cheers," before taking a big bite. Gabriel reached out to swipe a bit of frosting off of Michael's nose, and he followed them into the living room, where Michael had queued up _All About Eve_ , Gabriel's favorite comfort movie.

"I thought we were going to spend tonight on thesis research," Gabriel said, and Michael rolled their eyes at him.

"Work will still be there in the morning," Michael said, curling up on their side and laying their head on Gabriel's shoulder. Gabriel hummed contentedly and wrapped an arm around Michael before pressing start on the movie. These were the moments that reminded him that they were, indeed, the best together. Their relationship wasn't just the showy victories at trivia night. In that moment, who even cared if they didn't get to work on their thesis project together. Gabriel allowed himself to melt into the couch, and didn't even get annoyed when Michael spent most of the movie texting rather than paying attention. All they needed was cupcake and a night off every once in a while, and he knew they'd make it through just fine.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel wakes up to an unpleasant surprise and an early morning dilemma.

Michael wasn't in bed when Gabriel woke up. It was unusual - Gabriel was usually the early riser of the two. Michael's predilection for sleeping in one of those fun little facts that very few people knew, and Gabriel treasured. He liked that there were little things that he got to see by virtue of living with Michael that other people didn't get to know. Michael was normally so put together, so prim. If someone ever saw them before their morning coffee, it would shock and appall. So waking up alone immediately set off little alarm bells in Gabriel's mind, and rolled out of bed feeling completely off.

There was half a pot of coffee in the kitchen, but Michael had scooped up all their research notes, and the kitchen table was conspicuously bare. Gabriel poured himself a cup and it was ice cold. He checked his watch to make sure he hadn't slept in wildly past schedule. 6:45 a.m. Michael had to have gotten up around 4:30 a.m. in order for the coffee to have cooled by now. Gabriel grimaced, but downed the cup anyway, waiting for the caffeine to kick his brain into gear so he could figure out whatever he'd done or whatever appointments he had forgotten. He couldn't imagine why all of their research was gone. The two of them weren't due to pitch their thesis idea to Lucifer for another week. Gabriel had penciled them into Lucifer's schedule himself.

Thirty minutes and another half a pot of coffee later, and Gabriel still felt disoriented. He rubbed the last of the sleep out of his eyes, settled down onto the couch, and opened up his laptop to check his email and see if he'd missed any calendar notifications. When he went to bed last night he was pretty sure that his first meeting of the day was at 9:30 a.m.

He opened the laptop and Michael's login screen popped up. Gabriel's first thought is that Michael was about to have a very irritating day until he could get to them and swap out the machines. He keyed Michael's password in, figuring it wouldn't hurt to borrow the laptop for the morning. He'd done it often enough before. He noticed that Michael's iMessages were open, and he quickly minimized it, but he couldn't help but seeing that there were three unread notifications from a contact marked "H. L. (attractive)." Gabriel took a slow, centering breath. He knew that Michael found other men attractive from time to time. They even talked about it together. It was healthy. But seeing a random contact specifically marked "attractive" in Michael's messages stung. Did they not find _him_ attractive anymore?

Gabriel shook his head. He was not the jealous type. He'd assured Michael of this fact over and over again at the beginning of their relationship, and he didn't want to be made a liar. But his hand moved across the track pad of its own volition and he brought the messages screen back up. The next message down the list was from Lucifer at 3:00 p.m. yesterday. Gabriel's throat tightened. That meant the mysterious "H. L. (attractive)" was the person that Michael had been texting with last night when their head was in his lap.

Gabriel slammed the laptop shut and started pacing back and forth across the apartment. The cool, rational voice in his head told him that just because Michael found someone attractive and was texting with them didn't really mean anything. Gabriel had been attracted to plenty of other people in the last four years as well, even people he had to see every day. That didn't make him unfaithful, and he knew he needed to extend that same understanding to Michael. But Gabriel thought back to Beelzebub standing in front of their building in the dark, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.

Torn between scouring through all of Michael's texts immediately, and storming onto campus demanding that they explain themself, Gabriel wished that he had someone to turn to for advice right now. Over the past four years, old friends and colleagues had slowly faded into the distance as Michael became his whole world. Michael filled in all the cracks that had been present in Gabriel's life, and glued him together. He hadn't needed to ask anyone else for help in what felt like a lifetime. Still, he flipped through all the contacts on his phone, trying to find anyone who might be of some use. He discarded one option after another as he thumbed down the alphabet. His contacts list was a graveyard of jealous exes, dead phone numbers, and people back home who didn't approve of Michael. After a full review only two options presented themselves: his mother (who was always a mixed bag. She tended to give inscrutable advice that only made sense well after the situation had already resolved itself) and Phillip Sandalphon, his former best friend and sidekick. Of course, he would never tell Sandalphon that Gabriel thought of them as a sidekick. But he suspected that even now, Sandalphon was mostly a background character even in their own life.

He started drafting a text to his mother, but ended up copy pasting it to Sandalphon instead.

_Having a dilemma. Call me ASAP. G_

Gabriel had no idea if they would respond to him. It'd about eight months since their last conversation. But Gabriel's phone buzzed almost immediately.

"Gabriel," Sandalphon sounded entirely too pleased. Gabriel wondered if Sandalphon knew that they always sounded a bit smug. "It's been so long. What can I do for you?"

"It's about Michael," Gabriel said, not bothering with pleasantries. "I think they're hiding something from me and I don't know whether to confront them in public or go through all their texts."

"Surely those can't be the only two options," Sandalphon lilted, and Gabriel couldn't help feeling slightly condescended to.

"Well they're the only two things I can do right now," he replied, pacing back and forth across the room. It was nearly 8 a.m. and he was still in his bathrobe and slippers. Time was dilating. Every minute felt like an hour and he wasn't even sure he could wait long enough to put on pants before doing something. "If I don't do something right now I think I might explode."

"I think I'd quite like to see that," Sandalphon said wistfully.

"What?"

"Oh," they stuttered a bit, "J-just that I don't think I've seen you lose your temper, not really. It would be quite something."

"You know what? Nevermind. I'm sorry I asked you. You must be busy with," Gabriel strained to remember Sandalphon's partner's name, "everything."

"Don't be like that," they huffed. "It just seems a little extreme, defaulting to either invading your partner's privacy or hunting them down and making a scene. What exactly do you think they're hiding from you?"

"I don't know." Gabriel stopped, unclenched his jaw, and counted to five. "They texted all throughout our date night last night. And when I woke up all of our research materials were gone and they'd grabbed the wrong laptop. So, I could go read all their texts, or I could intercept them on campus and then they'd know that I'm mad at them, but it might just be for nothing."

"Well, it sounds like you ought to read their texts then."

"But that's a gigantic invasion of their privacy." Gabriel was grinding his teeth again. He gave up on trying to keep an unclenched jaw.

"Well then don't read their texts. I'm not sure what you want to hear from me."

"Some advice would have been great," Gabriel said sharply, and then hung up. That was a waste of time.

Sandalphon called him back almost immediately but Gabriel sent them to voicemail. He flopped down onto the couch and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw stars. The phone buzzed again and he silenced it, wondering if he should call his mother.

"Fuck it," he said, and picked up the laptop. He stared at the login screen for a full minute before typing in Michael's password again. "Here we go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually know how grad school works. I stopped with higher ed after my undergrad. Notes and possible corrections always welcome in the comments! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This might be the worst morning of Gabriel's life

The texts from H. L. (attractive), apparently named Harold Ligur, were predictably vulgar. No less than five eggplant emojis in the last 24 hours alone. To an untrained observer, Michael's reaction might have looked like polite disinterest, but Gabriel had known them for too long. They were outright flirting. Gabriel scrolled further and further back, and it seemed that their little flirtation had been going on for months, and he hadn't suspected a thing. Ligur had even been in their apartment while Gabriel was out. If he hadn't accidentally happened upon Michael's computer, he might never have known.

A quick Facebook search revealed that Ligur was some local burnout who regularly checked in at the divey-ist, most disgusting bars in town. He was humping a pool cue in his profile picture, a lit cigarette dangling from his lip. No one in the background appeared to care that he was smoking indoors. Gabriel clicked through and saw Michael had liked the photo. 

Gabriel cycled through rage, shame, guilt - although he couldn't fathom why he felt guilty when he'd done nothing wrong - and settled back on rage. He checked the time on Michael's computer. 9:00 a.m. No matter what he did, he was going to be late for his appointment with his clinical psychology professor. Even if he drove to campus, he was pretty sure he couldn't pay adequate attention anyway, so he shot her a quick apology text.

He had three missed texts from Sandalphon. Gabriel considered calling them back with an update. It would feel good to yell at someone, and Sadalphon rarely took Gabriel's tantrums personally. But the idea of yelling at Sandalphon wasn't actually that satisfying when he seriously considered it. There was only one person he wanted to yell at, and according to their emails, they were about to sit down with Professor Luke in just a few minutes.

Gabriel was already halfway to campus before he noticed that underclassmen from around the neighborhood were staring at him. He glanced down. He was wearing his blue plaid bathrobe and a pair of ratty running shoes. He'd utterly forgotten to get dressed in his rush to get to Michael before their meeting with the professor. He cursed himself under his breath, but kept moving forward with solid determination. His reputation couldn't handle it if any of his students saw him hesitate right now, especially since he already looked like an ass and a half. He picked up the pace, careful not to look frantic, and stalked toward Professor Luke's office.

The door was locked when he got there. Professor Luke never locked his door, and Gabriel had been the last one to leave for the night. Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief, thinking for a moment that he beat Michael there, but he heard muffled voices from behind the door and his heart sank. He fished his keys out of the pocket of his bathrobe. His hands shook as he located the office key and opened up. Professor Luke and Michael stared at him as he walked in. He fought the urge to shrink back, and tossed Michael's laptop down onto the desk in front of them.

"Thought you might want this back, _babe_ ," he said, forcing all the disdain he could into the pet name. Gabriel glanced down at the desk and saw all of their research materials there, laid out between Professor Luke and Michael.

Michael eyed him coolly, but didn't respond, apparently waiting for some sort of explanation. Gabriel caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of one of Professor Luke's framed credentials on the wall. He looked unstable, with his hair sticking up every which direction and a generous amount of chest hair showing through his barely closed robe. He self-consciously drew the robe closed tighter and re-cinched the belt at his waist.

"Professor. So good to see that Michael got a head start on presenting our research to you."

Professor Luke looked unfazed by all this, but Gabriel thought he could read him pretty well by now and could see that he was falling in Professor Luke's esteem by the second.

"Of course," Professor Luke said, "Michael mentioned that you'd been helping them compile resources for their proposal. That's very generous, even for a romantic partner. I'm sure they're very thankful."

Gabriel's mouth went dry. "What do you mean _their_ proposal. We worked on that together. We were supposed to pitch it together next week."

Michael had the decency to look away and Professor Luke raised an eyebrow. "Oh? I have you penciled in for next week, but Michael set this meeting up with me at the end of last semester. They didn't mention anything about working on it jointly." Professor Luke glanced between the two of them.

"Gabriel," Michael started, "I really do appreciate all of your help these last few weeks. You've been invaluable. I hope that I've been as helpful to you on your proposal as you've been to me."

Gabriel's vision blurred and he put his hand down on the desk to steady himself. "What do you mean, my proposal? We've been working on this together for ages." Gabriel turned to Professor Luke, silently begging him to help, to intervene.

"Do you have it anywhere in writing that Michael's intent was to share the project with you? Can you point to your research notes and definitively show your contributions?"

"Sure, sure," Gabriel said, wracking his brain for what he might have on his computer. "Michael, give me back my laptop."

Michael reached into their messenger bag and pulled out a laptop that was nearly identical to Michael's own, but it had a distinctive ding on it from the time that one of his Psych 101 students had knocked it off his desk while flailing about, demanding a better grade. Gabriel froze. There was no way Michael could have accidentally mistaken Gabriel's laptop for theirs.

Gabriel logged in. The blood drained from his face and he was frankly surprised his soul didn't leave his body right there. His research folder was gone. He checked the trash, did a spotlight search for keywords, but there was nothing. Michael had scrubbed his files almost completely clean. The cheeky asshat had also left him folder labeled "Porn" in his documents that seemed to be filled with all of his previous tax filings. Gabriel slowly closed the laptop lid and looked up. Professor Luke stared at him with a raised eyebrow while Michael was looking down and fidgeting slightly.

"I don't know what to say," Gabriel said. He was so furious moments before, but now he just felt hollow. Months of work, obliterated. His soulmate sat right in front of him, apparently denying any intention of ever working together. Gabriel scanned back through the last few months in his head, and now that he thought about it, Michael had always been cagey whenever Gabriel brought up their joint pitch.

"Gabriel," Professor Luke said slowly, laying a sympathetic hand on his arm. "It seems like you're having a difficult day. Why don't you take the rest of the week off? I can get Matthew Tran to cover your recitation groups for you. If you need an extension on pitching your thesis to me, that's fine. A lot of promising students take some extra time to finish up grad school. Pitching, developing, and defending your capstone project is a daunting task. No one would fault you for it."

Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut and took in a shaky breath, willing himself not to cry. Not here, in front of Professor Luke and the traitor. He was here on a work scholarship. He couldn't afford to take an extra semester to get his thesis in order. "I'll be fine," he said. He blinked back furious tears. "Ask Matthew to cover for me for a couple days, but I'll be fine by Friday. I'm sorry for wasting your time."

He gathered up his laptop and made to leave the office.

"See you at home," Michael said, their voice small.

"The fuck you will," Gabriel spat, and he slammed the office door shut.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel tries to figure out how to deal with Michael's betrayal.

The first thing Gabriel did upon arriving home was change into his best suit. Nevermind that it happened to be his only suit, that he wore for funerals, weddings, graduation, and everything in between. It was a good suit, and he was still living on student loans. He figured he could buy a new one on the successful pitch of his thesis project, as a treat.

But now his thesis pitch was no longer on schedule.

Either way, he changed into his suit, put on yet another pot of coffee, and surveyed the apartment that he and Michael had called home for the last two years. The first thing he noticed was how much stuff they'd managed to accrue. The coffee table they'd picked out together at Ikea. The bookshelves, stuffed full to bursting. A younger version of Gabriel had insisted that they keep their books separate, but when they moved into the new apartment Michael suggested that they merge assets. Gabriel agreed. Merging everything was a leap of faith for him. One that, until today, he thought was well earned. Now he was glad he'd insisted they keep all of their moving boxes. He thought, of course, that they would simply be able to reuse the boxes when they moved into their starter home after grad school. Now, as he waited for the coffee to brew, he dug out an old roll of packing tape and started assembling. He picked through the bookcases, dropping Michael's textbooks and cherished tomes into the bottom with a thud. Gabriel realized that the boxes might be too heavy for Michael to carry, but that was their problem now, not his.

Next, he moved to the closet. Michael had smaller shoulders, but a similar fashion sense to Gabriel. It'd long been a private point of consternation to Gabriel that they couldn't swap clothes as a result. Now it made it easy for him to take armfuls of cream sweaters, slate slacks, perfectly pressed boxers, and plop them on top of their textbooks.

The coffee maker beeped, but Gabriel was in the zone. He picked through everything of Michael's he could find, tossing items haphazardly to the corner of the room. If he happened to break something of Michael's, who cared. Michael had been equally careless with his trust.

Someone buzzed at the front door. Gabriel ignored the first few rings. Michael still had keys, so it wasn't them. He couldn't think of who else would stop by this time of day. He glanced at his watch. More than an hour had already gone by. He went back to the kitchen. The coffee was lukewarm. He'd gotten himself so in the zone that he hadn't even noticed the passage of time. He poured himself a cup anyway, and noted that he was well over his four cup limit for the day. He couldn't bring himself to care. The person at the door buzzed again, insistently, and he walked over to the intercom and barked out, "No solicitors."

"Let me up, dipshit," a voice crackled through the low quality speaker. Gabriel couldn't place the voice, but against his better judgement, he buzzed them up. It amused him that someone would call him a dipshit and demand entry at his own home. Gabriel buzzed the stranger in, and was surprised to see a disheveled Beezy walk in. Ze was even less presentable in the daylight than ze had been on the street at twilight. Zir hair was matted up at odd angles like ze hadn't had a shower in weeks, and zir face was smudged with dirt. Gabriel thought ze looked a bit like a street urchin in a Dickensian stage play.

"Lukewarm coffee?" he offered, not sure what else to say.

Beezy grunted in the affirmative and pushed past him toward the kitchen. "Your little meltdown is already all over campus," ze said, helping zerself to Michael's favorite mug. Gabriel hadn't quite gotten around to packing up the kitchen yet.

"That's Michael's mug," he said hollowly. It felt wrong to watch someone else drink out of it, but he reminded himself that he shouldn't care about that anymore.

Beezy snorted. "Who do you think bought it for them?"

Gabriel winced. Michael didn't mention that their favorite mug was a gift from an ex. Add it to the growing list of things Michael never mentioned.

Beezy glanced around the apartment, noting the boxes littering the floor. "When I was in your position," ze said, "I threw Michael's shit all over the quad."

"I guess I have a little more class than you," Gabriel said, but he smiled into his coffee, momentarily relieved to have someone who understood what he was going though. It didn't last. He remembered that Beezy warned him about this exact sort of thing only last night. Was it only last night? It felt like a lifetime.

"Come on," he sighed, "gloat if you're going to gloat. Finish your coffee, and get out." He might be heartbroken, but he wasn't crass enough to throw someone out before finishing their drink.

Beezy scoffed. "Sure, you have so much more class. You know, just because you'd gloat at someone in pain doesn't mean that's what I'm here to do." But ze didn't actually sound particularly offended. Zir affect was flat, as always, and ze sipped slowly on zir coffee, in no hurry to leave.

"Fine," Gabriel said, deflating a bit. His suit had made him feel pulled together, more himself when he was here alone, sifting through his shared life with Michael, but now that he had a witness he felt self conscious and desperate. Who wore a suit to pack up his life? He felt pathetic. "Why exactly are you here?"

Beezy shrugged. "I figured you could use a friend."

"I'm not interested in your pity." Gabriel knew he was being petulant now. He did appreciate having someone here, but he would die before admitting it. Especially since being in a suit next to a weird, surly ragamuffin was making him increasingly self conscious.

Beezy rolled zir eyes. "Okay, well, I'm not going to play this game where I beg you to let me stay and comfort you." Ze finished up the coffee, and pulled a pristine cream colored business card out of thin air. Ze pinned the card to the fridge with a steel cube magnet. One of Gabriel's magnets. He was about to ask how Beezy knew which magnets were his and which were Michael's, but then he remembered, right. Beezy and Michael used to be an item. "When you're ready to talk, give me a call."

Gabriel held the door open for Beezy as ze left, then went back to look at the business card. There was no name, no address. Just a phone number neatly stamped in bright red ink in the middle of the card.

"Who prints up business cards with no identifiable information?" Gabriel wondered to himself. He washed out the mug Beezy had been using, and looked around for some bubble wrap to pack it up for Michael. But in a small moment of vindictiveness he decided that, no. He would hide the mug and give it to Beezy the next time he saw zem. And if Michael had a problem with it, they could go fuck themself.


End file.
